Addiction
by plumtuckered
Summary: Archer and crew search for Trip who has been sentenced to a penal colony which uses a narcotic to gain the cooperation of its prisoners. *COMPLETE*
1. Default Chapter

TITLE: Addiction  
  
AUTHOR: plumtuckered  
  
E-MAIL: plumtuckered@earthlink.net  
  
CATEGORY: Drama  
  
RATING: R  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters of Enterprise do not belong to me but to Paramount.  
  
A/N: This was gathering dust for quite a while but I finally finished it! Be warned, there are minor spoilers for the episode "Cogenitor".  
  
  
  
ADDICTION  
  
Chapter One  
  
"Where are you, Trip?" asked Lieutenant Malcolm Reed quietly. He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again, and re-focused on his monitor. He had been assigned to scan the northeast quadrant of the sprawling city of Silota while both Sub-commander T'Pol and Ensign Hoshi Sato scanned the other quadrants. No one it seemed was having any luck locating the bio- signs of their missing chief engineer, Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker III.  
  
As Malcolm watched his screen, his mind wandered back twelve hours when the captain and crew had received word from T'Pol that the commander had been arrested for assault. The two had been sent down to the planet's surface to make first contact with a contingent of scientists on Silotan Major. According to T'Pol, everything had been progressing remarkably well. The Silotans had been quite kind and generous. Commander Tucker had been happy to help them repair one of their ships while the sub-commander had gathered data on some of the unusual mineral deposits surrounding the city. Then all hell broke lose and T'Pol was transported by the Silotans back to Enterprise immediately without the chief engineer.  
  
The turbo-lift door slid open and Captain Jonathan Archer stepped onto the bridge. Malcolm looked up and caught his eyes briefly before returning to his scans.  
  
"Anything?" asked Archer.  
  
"No, sir," replied the sub-commander.  
  
"Captain," Hoshi said suddenly. "We're being hailed, sir. It's Commander- in-chief Omara."  
  
Archer straightened his posture then stood directly in front of his chair. He nodded to Hoshi.  
  
"Commander? Where is my officer?" Archer demanded as soon as the serene face of the Silotan head of security appeared on the view screen. The alien male reminded Malcolm of the Vulcan ambassador, Soval. Omara had the same white hair but his skin had a gold hue instead of a slightly green one. His ears were pointed like Soval's, but were much longer, the lobes rounder.  
  
"Captain Archer. We are bringing your shuttlecraft into orbit. As soon as you retrieve it, we will transport our pilot back," said Omara. His face had no expression, again reminding Malcolm of Soval.  
  
"My officer, Commander?" asked Archer again with more force.  
  
Omara simply nodded his head then his face disappeared from the view screen. A second later Trip appeared.  
  
"I'm sorry, Cap'n," began the engineer.  
  
"Trip! Are you okay?" asked Archer anxiously. The captain stepped down in front of Ensign Travis Mayweather who was seated at the helm.  
  
"As you probably know by now, I've been arrested, charged, and convicted of assaulting a Silotan citizen," continued Trip.  
  
"It's a recording, sir," said Malcolm. Trip's face was horribly bruised and swollen and Malcolm could see blood splattered across the front of his dirty uniform.  
  
"I've been sentenced to fifty years imprisonment so I won't be seeing you again for a while," Trip paused, his voice breaking slightly. The commander cleared his throat, took in a breath and continued. "Please tell everyone what's happened and how much I've enjoyed working with them all. Commander Omara has allowed me to record a separate message to my family so hopefully Hoshi can get it to my folks."  
  
Trip paused again and looked down. When he looked back up, he had a slight, side-ways smile on his face. "You'd think I would have learned from Charles, huh?" he said softly as he shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. I just couldn't stand by and let that man hit his wife like that. He was really hurting her. I did what I thought was right without thinking it through again. I guess I haven't really learned anything at all." Trip looked off to his right then turned quickly back. "Goodbye, Cap'n," he said quietly, his voice breaking again. "It's been an honor serving with you, sir. And an honor being your friend."  
  
The engineer's image suddenly disappeared only to be replaced once again by Commander Omara.  
  
"As I've stated before, you've wrongfully imprisoned our chief engineer, Commander," said T'Pol as she stood up from her station. "Mr. Tucker did not assault your citizen. I am witness to his actions. He merely grabbed the man's arm so he could no longer strike the woman. Fifty years imprisonment is a very severe penalty when no harm was done."  
  
"Your officer broke our law, Sub-commander, when he used force on one of our own."  
  
"But your citizen was using force on his wife! What is his punishment?" asked Malcolm angrily. He rose to his feet as well, barely keeping himself from stepping down beside the captain.  
  
"A husband has every right to discipline his wife. Your commander overstepped his bounds. It is a clear violation of our law."  
  
"Trip didn't know your laws, Commander!" spat Archer.  
  
"Then perhaps the failure is yours, Captain, for not adequately researching our ways before you sent your officers to our world," responded Omara calmly.  
  
"I want my officer returned, Commander!" ordered the captain. "Or I will be forced to take drastic measures!"  
  
"Don't threaten me, Captain Archer," said Omara evenly. "Besides, it is out of my hands now."  
  
"What the hell does that mean!?"  
  
"Your commander was removed from Silotan Major just over ten hours ago."  
  
Malcolm sat down in shock. His friend was gone.  
  
  
  
Jon was stunned, numbed by Commander Omara's words.  
  
"Commander Tucker is no longer in Silota?" asked T'Pol, her voice tight.  
  
"That is correct. We found him guilty and his sentence began immediately after he recorded his final messages. We have found that swift justice is the best kind."  
  
"Where did you take him?" Jon asked after finding his voice again.  
  
"That is confidential information, Captain, as I'm sure you can understand."  
  
"Where did you take him!?" Jon demanded again. He could feel himself trembling with anger.  
  
Omara paused as if listening to someone. He nodded his head then focused on the captain again. "You should be able to detect your shuttle with your sensors now, Captain. We have transported our pilot so you had better retrieve your craft before it burns up in our atmosphere."  
  
With that, the commander's image faded and the image of the brown and blue world of Silotan Major appeared in his place.  
  
"I have the shuttle pod on sensors, sir," said Reed. "We've lost all contact with the surface. They've put up some sort of disruptive energy field."  
  
Jon rubbed his face in frustration. "Bring the grappler on line, Travis. We need to get the pod back."  
  
"Aye, sir," replied the helmsman quietly.  
  
"Captain?" asked Hoshi. "How are we going to find the commander?"  
  
Jon looked at his communications officer, seeing the worry in her wide eyes. "I honestly don't know, Hoshi. But we will find him. I promise you that," he replied gently but firmly. "Now keep trying to find a way to break through that energy field. I want to talk to Commander Omara again."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
The captain stepped back up to his chair but didn't sit down. He stared blankly at it, Trip's message replaying through his mind. Jon knew his young friend was still trying to deal with the suicide of Charles, the Vissian co-genitor he'd befriended only a few weeks ago. Trip's interference in the Vissian culture had lead to horrific results. And even though Jon had initially placed full blame on the engineer's shoulders, he later apologized, admitting that he, too, had interfered in other lives. He had tried to convince Trip that the suicide was not his fault but he knew his friend still held a world of guilt inside. The two friends had shared tears over the sad incident and their friendship had become stronger for it. Now Trip was being punished for interfering again and this time Jon knew for certain he would have done the same thing in Trip's place.  
  
Jon sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. He cherished his friendship with Trip and the fact that he might never see the irrepressible engineer again scared him to death.  
  
"I've got the pod, sir," said the helmsman. "I'm bringing it into the launch bay now."  
  
"Good work, Travis," Jon replied. He turned to T'Pol. "Any ideas, Sub- commander?"  
  
The Vulcan looked up at him from her screen. "Ensign Sato, Lieutenant Reed, and I were all running scans during the time Commander Tucker was allegedly removed from Silota. I am reviewing our scans for any transports that may have left during that time or for any energy signatures that match a transporter beam. As the commander would say, it's worth a shot."  
  
Jon nodded. "Good."  
  
"Captain, there are three vessels approaching from the other side of the planet," said Reed.  
  
"We're being hailed, sir," said Hoshi, her hand pressing against her earpiece.  
  
"Polarize the hull plating, Malcolm," Jon directed as he turned back to the view screen. He then nodded at Hoshi. "Put them through, Ensign."  
  
"Captain Archer, you are no longer welcome in Silotan space. We are asking that you leave peacefully. If you do not comply immediately, we will have no choice but to open fire on your ship," said the Silotan woman who appeared on-screen.  
  
"Tell Commander-in-chief Omara I demand to speak to him again," said Jon.  
  
"I am under orders from Commander Omara, Captain. Your officer has been treated justly and according to Silotan law. His sentence will not be rescinded. You must leave our space."  
  
"They're charging weapons!" said Reed.  
  
Jon stood his ground. "I just need to know where Commander Tucker was taken! Please ask Omara to speak to me!"  
  
Enterprise quaked suddenly and Jon grabbed the arm of his chair to steady himself. He turned to his armory officer.  
  
"Warning shot, Captain. I've scanned their arsenal, sir. We're out- gunned," Reed reported quietly.  
  
"I will not warn you again, Captain," stated the alien woman on the screen.  
  
"Captain," interjected T'Pol. "There are three Silotan vessels." She paused a moment. "We can not help Commander Tucker if we allow ourselves to be destroyed."  
  
"Travis, take us out of orbit," Jon hissed.  
  
  
  
Trip shifted his weight on the narrow bench and watched the little Silotan girl as she shoved a bowl under the bars of his cell.  
  
"Father says you should eat this. You won't be getting much food when we arrive at Tria Colony."  
  
"You're kinda young for a prison guard," Trip observed. The little girl glanced up at him through the bars and he grinned at her.  
  
She smiled back timidly then turned to leave.  
  
"Wait!" said Trip. He leaned forward and grabbed the bowl. "Thank you," he said.  
  
"You're welcome," replied the girl. She stepped up to the bars again and peered at him. "What is that on your sleeve?"  
  
"This?" Trip asked as he angled his head to see the Starfleet patch on his shoulder. "That's my ship."  
  
"It's funny looking."  
  
Trip chuckled. "You think so? I think she's a beauty and well, she's where I hang my hat."  
  
"You don't have a hat."  
  
"It's just a saying. It's my home, where I live."  
  
"Oh," replied the girl with a nod. "Does your face hurt?"  
  
"A little," replied Trip. He touched his bruised cheek and grimaced. "And they said I used force," he muttered.  
  
"What did you do?"  
  
Trip sighed. "I grabbed a man who was hitting his wife."  
  
"Oh. Assault."  
  
"That's what they called it," Trip replied bitterly. He tilted his head and looked at her. "What's your name?"  
  
"Kamella."  
  
"That's a beautiful name," he said with a smile.  
  
Kamella blushed and looked away. She brought a small hand up to self- consciously brush at her short-cropped white hair.  
  
Trip grinned at her. "So tell me, Kamella, why are you and your father transporting prisoners to this, this Tria Colony? Seems like an odd job for a little girl."  
  
"I'm almost twelve!" said Kamella indignantly.  
  
"Sorry," Trip apologized kindly.  
  
"My mother is serving time at Tria. My father offered our services in return for a reduced sentence for her."  
  
"What did your mama do?" Trip asked. He dipped a finger into the bowl and dabbed at the lump of cold mush. He couldn't bring himself to eat it.  
  
"She said some things about the government she shouldn't have," Kamella replied softly. She leaned against the bars and ran one hand up and down the cold metal. "I'll be eighteen when I see her again."  
  
Trip shook his head. "I'm sorry, Kamella."  
  
The little girl looked at him for a long moment. "You're nice," she said. "Everyone else we transport is mean and ugly. You're not."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"What is your name?"  
  
"Charles Tucker but you can call me Trip."  
  
"Trip?" Kamella giggled. "That's a funny name."  
  
"Hey! First you call my ship funny looking then you make fun of my name?" cried the engineer in mock disgust.  
  
"I'm sorry, Trip! I didn't mean to hurt your feelings!" replied the girl. Her brown eyes were wide with concern.  
  
"I'm just teasing you, Kamella. Trip is a pretty funny name. If you'd like, you can call me Charles." The engineer swallowed hard, the memory of another Charles still too fresh in his mind. He forced the unhappy memory away and focused on the little girl before him.  
  
Kamella shook her head as she visibly relaxed again. "I like Trip," she said shyly.  
  
Trip suppressed a chuckle. "You're going to break some hearts when you get older."  
  
The girl blushed furiously and her hand went back up to brush at her hair. Trip watched her in quiet amusement. Then her young face turned serious and she looked at him squarely.  
  
"Be careful on Tria, Trip. Commander-in-chief Omara makes his own rules but the Silotans who run Tria don't even have rules," the girl said. "Father calls it "hell". He worries for Mother constantly."  
  
"How do you know, um, well," Trip started.  
  
"If Mother is still alive?"  
  
Trip nodded uncomfortably. "Yeah."  
  
"Father is allowed to see her briefly each time we deliver a prisoner," replied Kamella. She looked down. "He always cries when he returns. He tries to hide from me, but I always know."  
  
The two remained silent for several long minutes.  
  
Finally Kamella looked back up at Trip and smiled weakly. "You should try to eat some of that," she said motioning at the bowl Trip held.  
  
  
  
To Be Continued 


	2. Chapter 2

ADDICTION  
  
Chapter Two  
  
  
  
Ensign Travis Mayweather sat down at the table in the empty mess hall. He was tired but he couldn't find sleep no matter how hard he tried. The young boomer stared at the cup of hot cocoa he held between his hands. They had been searching for any trace of Commander Tucker for hours with no luck. Sub-commander T'Pol had discovered that there were twenty vessels that had left the city of Silota around the same time the chief engineer had allegedly been shipped off planet.  
  
"Ensign?"  
  
Travis looked up into the smiling face of Dr. Phlox.  
  
"May I sit here?" asked the Denobulan.  
  
"Of course, Doctor," replied Travis, nodding his head at the chair beside which Phlox stood. "I'm sorry. I didn't even hear you come in."  
  
Dr. Phlox sat down then looked across the table at the boomer. "Anything new in the search for Commander Tucker?" he asked.  
  
Travis shook his head. "Of the twenty ships that left Silota, fifteen of them were heavily shielded. Sub-commander T'Pol couldn't even tell if there were Silotans on-board let alone a human." He shoved his cup away from him in frustration, spilling a bit of the cocoa on the table. He took his napkin and wiped up the mess. "The captain is having the sub-commander guess at the ships' trajectories then she's going to search the Vulcan database for any information on any planets along their paths. It's like finding a needle in a haystack, Doctor."  
  
"We'll find him, Ensign."  
  
"I'm not so sure," Travis responded quietly. "I think our luck may have just run out."  
  
  
  
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I thought target practice would take my mind off the commander but it's not helping at all. I couldn't hit the broad side of a barn tonight," sighed Hoshi in exasperation.  
  
"It's alright, Ensign. We're all worried," replied Malcolm. He picked up a phase pistol and took aim at the tiny sphere that darted around the room. He fired, missing the sphere cleanly. He grunted. "Seems I can't hit the barn either."  
  
"I wonder what's happening to him."  
  
Malcolm paused a moment then fired at the sphere again, this time hitting it dead center.  
  
"Well if I know Commander Tucker, he's probably giving someone an earful right this minute," he said as he aimed again. He squeezed the trigger and hit his target.  
  
Hoshi chuckled softly. "And he has such a way with words. Remember when he let Ambassador Soval have it? Didn't he call the Vulcans pathetic?"  
  
Malcolm looked at her and smiled at the memory. "I think everyone of us, including the captain, wished we had said that. I know I certainly did."  
  
"Oh yeah," laughed Hoshi. Then her smile faded. "Saying what's on your mind can get you killed in prison, sir," she said, her voice hushed.  
  
Malcolm felt his stomach clench. He remembered vividly the sight of Trip's bruised and swollen face during the engineer's recorded farewell to Captain Archer. Malcolm could only hope his friend could stay out of harm's way until they reached him. Wherever he was.  
  
  
  
T'Pol was becoming frustrated. As hard as she fought to push down the emotions, they were still bubbling just under the surface. She took a deep, cleansing breath then focused again on her screen. Commander Tucker's very life depended on her ability to do her job no matter how long it took her. She could ill afford to lose her control now.  
  
As she keyed in her data, T'Pol recalled the incident that had landed the commander in trouble. She had met Tucker outside the geological research center and while they walked back to the shuttle pod, he had relayed all he had seen while visiting the ship construction yards. He had been happy and excited and more at ease then she'd seen him in weeks. As they neared the edge of the city, their attention had been drawn to a Silotan man yelling at his companion, a small female. When the man had begun striking the young woman brutally, Tucker had hesitated.  
  
T'Pol's fingers paused on her keyboard. The commander had indeed hesitated. She saw him clearly in her mind's eye as he watched the scene before him. He had taken a moment to weigh his options then had decided in mere seconds to interfere. Perhaps the volatile young man had learned from his experience with the Vissians after all. The Tucker of only a few weeks ago wouldn't have hesitated at all. Yes, he had still interfered but he had thought about his actions first.  
  
As her fingers began skimming the keyboard again, T'Pol felt an odd sense of pride. Yet another human emotion, she chided herself. But she did feel proud. Maybe there was hope for the commander yet. She stopped again briefly as she remembered the security personnel grabbing the engineer and forcing him to the ground. She had seen his face as it contorted in pain then she had been swept away in the transporter beam.  
  
"Any luck?"  
  
T'Pol glanced up to see Captain Archer step out of his ready room, his dog Porthos right on his heels. Although she had grown accustomed to the scent of her crewmates, the smell of the canine still bothered her. She schooled her features to hide her disdain.  
  
"No, sir," T'Pol replied. "I have completed projected courses for four of the fifteen vessels with nothing to report."  
  
"Is the energy field still in place around the planet?" Archer asked the young crewman who sat at the communications station in Sato's place.  
  
"Yes, Captain. I'm still trying to find a way through it."  
  
Archer expelled the breath he'd been holding. "Keep working at it. Sub- commander, I'll be in engineering if you need me."  
  
  
  
Jon stood near the door, Porthos tucked in the crook of his arm. He rubbed the little dog's head absently while he watched his crew at work in engineering. Trip's crew, he reminded himself. He knew they were loyal to him as the captain, but their hearts belonged to their chief engineer. Jon smiled as he watched the image of his friend bounding across the top of the huge warp reactor only to land at a run on the platform that hung suspended several meters above the floor. His eyes followed the image as it bounded down the stairs with ease then headed up the steps to stand at the control panel at the front of the warp core. Jon's smile left him and he pulled Porthos more tightly against his side.  
  
"Where is he, boy?" he asked the little dog softly.  
  
  
  
Trip felt the gentle bump as the transport ship landed. He stood up and walked over to the bars of his tiny cell, trying to ignore again the fear that had been a constant over the two days since his arrest. Kamella rounded the corner and approached him followed closely by her father, Finn. Trip had only briefly talked with Finn but had instantly liked the tall Silotan.  
  
"I'm sorry, Trip," Finn said. "If I could help you, I would."  
  
Trip nodded in understanding. "I know, Finn, I know."  
  
Kamella looked up at the engineer with sad eyes and Trip smiled at her.  
  
"Come on then," said Finn softly as he unlocked the door and swung it open.  
  
Trip stepped out of the cell then knelt in front of Kamella. He reached up and ripped the patch off the shoulder of his uniform and handed it to her. "If you ever see this ship, would you let it's captain know where I am? His name is Captain Archer."  
  
Kamella looked up at her father who tipped his head in response. She looked back at Trip with tear-filled eyes and nodded.  
  
"Good girl," Trip said. He placed his hand on the top of her head affectionately then stood up straight. "Okay, Finn. I'm ready."  
  
The minute the transport door slid open, Trip was grabbed by two Silotans, one male the other female, and hauled forcefully away from the little ship. He was brought to a halt in front of a short slim man with thinning white hair. The man circled Trip with appraising eyes.  
  
"Well Omara finally sent me someone with some muscle, I see," the man said. "If we're lucky, maybe we'll get more than a year's work out of you." He turned to Finn. "What species is he?"  
  
"Human, sir," replied Finn.  
  
"Human," repeated the smaller man. "I've never heard of humans before." He turned back and looked up at Trip. "Thank you, Finn. You may go," he said over his shoulder.  
  
"But Breenan, what about my wife? I need to see her!" pleaded Finn.  
  
Breenan swung around and stepped close to the taller man. "You were two hours late, Finn! I will not permit you to see your precious wife. Now go! Maybe next time you'll keep closer tabs on your schedule!"  
  
"Please, sir! I must see Kaea! Please!"  
  
"Leave! If you're not gone in ten minutes, I'll add a year to your wife's sentence!" growled Breenan. The man turned back to Trip then nodded at the two guards. Trip was dragged away. He looked back quickly to see Finn staring after him, a look of shock and sadness on his face.  
  
  
  
The sun was just setting when Trip was shoved into a large room occupied by a few other prisoners. He landed on his knees hard and grimaced from the pain. Pain, he thought. The bruising to his knees was nothing like what he'd endured earlier at the hands of the prison doctor. He could still feel the harsh probing and poking, the prick of the needle as the doctor injected him with something. Trip saw the physician's face vividly and knew the woman had enjoyed his torture. He felt sick.  
  
"Come over here," said a gentle voice suddenly.  
  
Trip looked up into the face of an old Xyrillian male. The man took Trip's arm and helped him over to sit against the wall. As Trip tried to get comfortable, the other occupants of the cell gathered around him, their eyes full of apprehension. The old man knelt beside him and smiled kindly.  
  
"Thank you," Trip said. He took in the faces of his cellmates. The others were all Silotans, two women and three men. None of them looked like criminals at all to him.  
  
"Welcome to our humble abode," continued the Xyrillian. "My name is A'Tal."  
  
"I'm Trip. Nice to meet ya."  
  
A'Tal patted Trip's arm gently then sat down beside him. The other five visibly relaxed.  
  
"So what treacherous crime did you commit, Trip?" asked the old man.  
  
The engineer described his offense and everyone nodded sympathetically.  
  
"So Omara is still at it. I was hoping after Kaea here, the government would open its eyes and see what he was doing," said one of the women. She nodded her head toward the other woman in the group. "I guess you were right, Kaea. The corruption goes all the way to the top."  
  
"Kaea?" said Trip turning to the other woman. "Are you Kamella's mother?"  
  
Kaea's face lit up with a smile. "Yes! You know my Kamella? How is she? How is my husband?"  
  
"They're both fine, ma'am. I'm sorry Breenan wouldn't let you see Finn."  
  
"I haven't seen Finn in just over six months, Trip. Since the day I was arrested."  
  
"But Finn told me that each time he brings a prisoner here, he is allowed to see you."  
  
"Maybe that old bastard Breenan has one shred of decency in his body, huh Kaea? At least your husband knows you're still alive," groused one of the men. "Probably lets the poor guy see you just so he keeps doing his job."  
  
Kaea ignored the man's comments and focused her attention on Trip. "Finn is transporting prisoners?"  
  
Trip nodded. "Yeah. Kamella said Omara agreed to reduce your sentence because of your husband."  
  
Kaea's smile faded. "My sentence was ten years, Trip. Reducing that won't make a bit of difference."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"No Silotan has ever survived Tria for more than 14 months, Trip," explained A'Tal gently. "The addiction becomes too strong and the withdrawals eventually kill them."  
  
"Addiction? Withdrawal? What are you talking about?" asked Trip.  
  
A'Tal shared a look with each of his cellmates before he turned back to the engineer. "We're all here to harvest a narcotic called Triasaphen from a plant indigenous to this world. The drug is highly addictive to Silotans if taken in high quantities. Breenan and his minions keep them addicted to insure their cooperation. Were you injected with something when you arrived?"  
  
Trip nodded reluctantly.  
  
"I thought so." A'Tal leaned his head back against the wall. "I'm the lucky one," he said bitterly. "The drug doesn't affect me. I've been here fifteen years."  
  
Trip was stunned.  
  
"Hey maybe you'll be lucky, too," said the other woman, her voice heavy with sarcasm.  
  
"Be quiet, Alta," said Kaea angrily. Alta grunted then moved across the room to stand in silence in the corner.  
  
"Alta's been here thirteen months, Trip. She needs more of the drug then she's being given. She knows her time is getting close. This withdrawal cycle may be her last," explained A'Tal. "Berryl and Nate have been here, what, seven months already? And Jett has been here nine. We just lost our friend, Tam, three days ago. You're her replacement."  
  
"Withdrawal cycle?"  
  
Kaea sighed sadly. "The cycle of the harvest lasts three weeks then the cycle of heat lasts for one week. During that one week, we are no longer supplied the drug. We go through withdrawals, painful withdrawals. This last week was awful for Alta. I doubt she'll survive the next cycle of heat."  
  
"Are we the only ones here?" asked Trip, his voice unsteady even to his own ears.  
  
"We're the only ones who harvest," said Berryl. "There is a large prison complex several kilometers away where all the violent criminals are placed. At least Omara has some sense of justice. This hellish world is the perfect place for a penal colony!"  
  
"What happens to this drug? This Triasaphen?"  
  
Nate snorted. "It gets shipped back to Silotan Major so that all the high- powered diplomats like Omara can get their highs!" he spat. "Welcome to our happy little world, Trip!"  
  
"Nate," scolded A'Tal.  
  
Trip watched as both Berryl and Nate moved off to sit next to each other against the opposite wall leaving only Kaea, A'Tal and Jett. Trip looked closely at the remaining Silotan male. He was very young, not much older than Kamella, Trip guessed. The boy looked back at him in youthful defiance then he, too, moved away to settle himself in another corner.  
  
"Jett is still very much a child, Trip," explained A'Tal in a hushed voice. "He turned sixteen the day Tam died."  
  
"What is he here for?"  
  
"He stole some food for his family," replied Kaea, her voice laced with sadness. She settled herself against the wall on the other side of Trip. "Would you tell me about my daughter and my husband?" she asked quietly.  
  
As the light that filtered in through the high, narrow windows slowly faded, Trip told Kaea what he could about her family. When darkness finally filled the room, he heard her muffled sobs. Then slowly the room fell into silence.  
  
"A'Tal?" whispered Trip, breaking the quiet.  
  
"Yes," came the response from the dark.  
  
"What happens tomorrow?"  
  
There was silence and Trip thought maybe the old Xyrillian had fallen asleep. Then he heard the old man shift slightly.  
  
"The harvest cycle begins."  
  
  
  
To Be Continued 


	3. Chapter 3

ADDICTION  
  
Chapter Three  
  
  
  
The world had changed overnight. When Trip had arrived at Tria Colony, the air had been warm, the sun shining. He couldn't believe that in a few short hours, the entire climate had changed. He awoke in the cell shivering from the bitter cold. The others were just beginning to stir as well. Trip looked up at the dark gray sky outside the windows. He could hear the wind howling.  
  
A'Tal stood up beside him then reached a hand down to help Trip to his feet. The engineer grimaced as his body protested his every move. He still hurt from the beating he'd received on Silotan Major but now he also felt the residual affects of the harsh treatment at the hands of the doctor just the day before. The icy cold air didn't help matters much, he thought with bitterness.  
  
They all jumped when the cell door flew open. Two guards came in carrying heavy coats while a third carried a tray of food. Two more guards holding rifles remained at the door, covering their comrades. The coats were dumped on the floor and the tray was left beside them. The three guards joined the two at the door, their hands on the butts of their weapons holstered at their sides.  
  
The doctor Trip had met the previous day entered with a tray of syringes. All the Silotans pushed up their sleeves without being directed to do so. The woman went from one to the next, injecting him or her with the contents of the syringes.  
  
"I think I'll pass," said Trip when the doctor stepped in front of him. In the blink of an eye, two guards had him down on the floor, his arm twisted painfully behind his back.  
  
The doctor knelt and injected the engineer. "It would be best if you cooperated," she said. Then she stood and exited the cell.  
  
"You have ten minutes!" barked one of the guards. The five left the room and slammed the door shut after them.  
  
Ten minutes later, Trip found himself bundled up in a filthy coat climbing into the back of a land transport. He sat down next to Kaea and A'Tal on the bench while the others huddled on the bench across from him. The vehicle lurched forward, nearly spilling Jett out the back. Berryl reached for the boy and hauled him back in.  
  
As the transport wound its way to its destination, Trip looked out over the landscape. The world had frozen virtually overnight. What had been living only the day before was now shriveled and dying in the bitter cold. He pulled his coat closed and shivered.  
  
After only thirty minutes, the vehicle came to an abrupt halt. The guards who'd been sitting in the front of the transport motioned with their rifles for the prisoners to exit. Trip followed the others out into a field of tall grass. He watched as they all dropped to their hands and knees to begin pulling the grass out by the roots.  
  
"Get to work!" ordered one of the guards as he shoved Trip in the back. Trip swung around in anger but was met with a hard rifle butt to the side of his head. The engineer toppled backwards and fell hard, dazed. He felt strong hands grab him and help him to sit up. A soft voice urged him to do as he was told. Trip felt the hot blood dripping down the side of his frozen face and he heard the voice again coaxing him to get to work. Through the fog, Trip could see A'Tal beside him watching him anxiously.  
  
The grass had sharp edges that cut into Trip's hands. The pain helped to clear his mind and he began pulling in earnest.  
  
"Are you okay?" asked Kaea who was working just in front of him. She looked back with concerned eyes.  
  
Trip nodded then looked down at his sliced palms.  
  
"Keep pulling, Trip," instructed A'Tal and the engineer obeyed.  
  
By the end of the day, Trip was exhausted. A'Tal and Kaea helped settle him against the wall of their cell then the Xyrillian knelt beside him. He probed gently at the gash in the side of Trip's head then he took Trip's chin in his hand and peered intently into his eyes.  
  
"You may have a slight concussion," the old man said. He patted Trip's knee kindly then sat down beside him. "You'll be alright."  
  
"What did you do before you came here, A'Tal?" asked the engineer as he leaned his head back against the wall.  
  
"I was a physician," replied A'Tal.  
  
Trip looked at him in surprise. "You're a doctor? How'd you end up here?"  
  
A'Tal closed his eyes for a moment then turned his head to look at Trip. "I was on my way home from a medical conference when I started having engine trouble. I landed just outside the city of Silota. Everyone was so generous and kind. Commander-in-chief Omara had just come into his role as head of security and he seemed like a very genial man. He showed me around the city while I waited for the repairs to my ship to be completed. While we were eating dinner, a patron of the eatery began choking. I did what any doctor would do and tried to help her. As much as I tried, I couldn't dislodge whatever was caught in her throat. She died before more help could arrive." A'Tal sighed. "I was arrested immediately and sentenced to life here."  
  
Trip shook his head in disbelief. "I'm so sorry, A'Tal," he whispered. He gazed down at his sore hands.  
  
"How do you feel?" asked the Xyrillian.  
  
"You mean aside from the headache?"  
  
A'Tal smiled kindly. "Yes, aside from the headache."  
  
"Fine," Trip replied. "Maybe I'm like you and I won't become addicted."  
  
"This is only your first day. The others didn't start showing signs until after receiving injections for several days."  
  
The door opened and a guard walked in with a tray of food. The man set it down then backed out of the room under the watchful eye of another guard.  
  
Berryl and Nate grabbed their bowls first then huddled side by side on the floor and began devouring the contents. Jett knelt beside the tray and picked up a bowl and handed it to Alta. She shook her head. Jett shrugged and took the bowl himself. Kaea picked up the tray and offered it to Trip and A'Tal.  
  
"Thank you," said Trip as he took one of the bowls. He peered in at the red pasty substance and groaned. "Oh this looks delicious," he muttered.  
  
"You'll get used to it," laughed Kaea. She watched in amusement as Trip took a finger full and shoved it into his mouth. He grimaced and shivered dramatically.  
  
Jett came over and sat with them. "So what did you do before ending up here with us?" he asked looking at Trip. The boy still had an air of defiance about him.  
  
"I'm an engineer on a starship," replied Trip. He forced another bite of the paste down, hoping it would stay put in his stomach. "Commander Charles Tucker III, Chief Engineer, at your service."  
  
The boy nearly spilled his bowl as his mouth dropped open. "You're a commander?"  
  
Trip nodded feeling oddly embarrassed at the boy's reaction. He saw Kaea and A'Tal exchange smiles.  
  
"A commander," Jett repeated with a hint of awe.  
  
"You're an important person, huh, Commander?" said Berryl from across the room. "So where is your starship now? If you're so important, why haven't they come for you?"  
  
"Berryl, hush," admonished A'Tal.  
  
"It's okay," said Trip to the old man before looking at Berryl. "They'll find me. I know my captain and he won't give up. I was taken pretty quickly so they're probably just trying to put the pieces together."  
  
Nate snorted derisively then the two began talking softly between themselves casting occasional glances at Trip.  
  
"Just ignore them, Commander," said Jett as he took a bite. "They're here for deserting their posts in the Silotan military. They're just jealous of your rank."  
  
Trip couldn't help but smile at the boy's use of his title.  
  
  
  
The first week went by slowly. Every morning the prison doctor would enter and give the prisoners their injections then they would head out to the field to harvest. Trip could feel himself changing but he hoped the changes were because of the circumstances in which he found himself and not because of the drug coursing through his veins.  
  
Now, after a hard day in the field, he paced back and forth in the cell.  
  
"You need to rest," urged A'Tal.  
  
But Trip felt trapped, like the walls of the cell were closing in on him. He peered up at the darkening sky through the windows that lined the upper portion of one wall.  
  
A'Tal moved to his side. "Please, Trip."  
  
"It's happening, isn't it?" Trip asked. "The drug."  
  
"It appears so, my friend."  
  
"Damn it."  
  
A'Tal put a hand on Trip's shoulder. "Try to rest."  
  
The commander jerked away. "Just leave me alone, old man!" he snarled, turning on the Xyrillian in sudden anger. "Leave me alone!"  
  
A'Tal shrank back.  
  
Trip closed his eyes then brought his hands up to cover his face. "I'm sorry A'Tal," he murmured.  
  
"You need to rest, my friend."  
  
"I can't. When I close my eyes, I dream. I don't want to dream!" He paced along the wall, his breathing ragged, his hand sliding over the cool stone. "I don't want to dream," he repeated with vehemence.  
  
Then he looked at his cellmates all huddled against the other walls watching him. Trip turned his back and slammed his fists into the stone. He leaned forward, his forehead touching the coolness. Why, he asked himself. Why hadn't he come for him? The captain was supposed to be his friend.  
  
Trip laughed out loud. Archer was probably glad he was gone. Trip knew all he did was cause him trouble. As soon as the engineer went missing, Archer had probably taken Enterprise at high warp as far away from Silotan Major as he could get.  
  
No, Trip thought. He knew his captain would never do that. Archer was a good man, one of the best Trip had ever known. The engineer slipped down the wall to his knees. He suddenly felt like he was dangling over a deep, cold, dark hole, clinging fiercely to the sides so he wouldn't fall.  
  
"I don't know if I can hold on, Cap'n," Trip whispered, shaking his head. He felt strong hands grab him then arms encircle him, holding him tightly.  
  
  
  
Jon sat in his chair on the bridge and looked at each of his officers. They were all working so diligently to find Trip even though a full two weeks had passed that Jon couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. They were indeed the best Starfleet had to offer but they were also some of the best people he'd ever had the privilege to meet. His eyes wandered to his Vulcan science officer. She had barely taken enough time to meditate let alone sleep and Jon wondered how she was still functioning. He had tried to tell her that Trip's situation wasn't in any way her fault and even though she denied "feeling" anything, Jon knew that in her own way, she missed the chief engineer as much as the others.  
  
The captain stood up and headed to his ready room. When the door slid shut behind him, he leaned back against it and stared up at the ceiling. Enterprise was heading back to Silotan Major to try once again to contact Commander Omara. T'Pol's research had uncovered a penal colony on a small planet that fell along the path of a tiny transport vessel but after scanning the large prison complex, they had found no human bio-signs. The captain and Malcolm had gone down to the surface to talk with the prison officials and had run more scans while they were there. They went cell to cell looking for Trip but had no luck. Jon shivered now at the memory of the frigid climate. That was a week ago. After that lead fell through, they had followed the course of another larger ship only to find a vacation spot for the rich and famous of Silotan Major and no sign of their missing engineer.  
  
Jon sighed and moved to his desk. He sat down heavily in his chair then swiveled around so he could look out his view port. He knew he had to make a report to Admiral Forrest on their progress but his fear was that the admiral would give them a deadline after which they were to cease their search and declare Trip missing in action. That was something Jon knew he could never do; give up on his friend. As far as he was concerned, if there wasn't a body, then Trip was still alive.  
  
The captain stood and moved to his view port. He leaned on the sill and stared out at the endless stream of stars. He missed the engineer. He missed his unique point of view and his opinions but most of all, Jon knew, he missed his sense of humor and his friendship. The captain shook his head. They'd been friends for nearly a decade, a decade that Jon held close to his heart.  
  
He sighed again. "Where are you, Trip?" he whispered helplessly.  
  
  
  
After nearly three weeks of working in the field, Trip's hands had gone completely numb so it still surprised him when he could see the smear of blood on the blades of grass. He stopped pulling and stared at his palms, watching the blood seep from the tiny cuts. He wondered briefly if the feeling of utter despair he felt was a result of the narcotic from the plant or a result of being left behind by his captain and friend. The Triasaphen was wreaking havoc with his emotions. He hadn't been affected like the five Silotans but that gave him little comfort. The others had become quiet and glassy-eyed while Trip went from anger to a place so dark he thought he'd never come back out of it. He hated this drug and what it was doing to him and to the others. He had grown to look forward to the distraction of his evening chats with A'Tal, Kaea, and Jett but in the last week, Kaea and Jett had chosen to curl up against the wall of the cell each night. They would simply stare out into the cell without focus until sleep overtook them. The other three had done the same.  
  
Trip turned to Kaea who was kneeling beside him pulling the blades at a steady pace. There were four Silotans left now. Alta had gotten herself killed the day before when she charged a guard. Trip knew she had chosen her way to die, preferring the instant death of a phase rifle shot to the slow, painful death of withdrawals. He wondered if the others would eventually do the same as the months passed and the withdrawals became intolerable. He wondered if he'd do the same as well.  
  
"Get to work!"  
  
Trip looked up just as a guard poked Jett with the muzzle of his rifle. The boy appeared to be pulling at the same pace as the others but the guard prodded him again. Under the influence of the drug, the Silotans were docile so Jett did nothing but flinch away. The guard seemed to enjoy harassing the boy so he continued to jab at him.  
  
"Knock it off!" growled Trip.  
  
The guard swung around and glared down at the engineer. "What did you say?"  
  
"I said knock it off!" Trip repeated tightly.  
  
"Trip," whispered A'Tal in warning. The old Xyrillian was working just behind him.  
  
The Silotan guard turned and jabbed at Jett again with more force. The boy whimpered in pain but kept pulling the grass obediently.  
  
Trip got to his feet. "Leave him alone!" he hissed.  
  
"It's alright, Commander," said Jett, his voice trembling.  
  
"No, it's not alright!"  
  
The blow to his back caught Trip by surprise and he dropped to his knees gasping.  
  
"What is going on here, Rem?"  
  
"This prisoner was causing problems, sir," the guard replied.  
  
"He was just trying to help the boy, Breenan," explained A'Tal. "Rem here was teasing him."  
  
Trip shifted his weight until he was sitting on one hip then rubbed at his sore back. Breenan hovered over him brandishing a heavy club. Trip looked up and boldly held the older man's gaze.  
  
"You're lucky we're one short, young man," Breenan said as he tapped the club against one palm. "Otherwise you'd be dead." The Silotan walked over to Rem. "Get them back to work. Today is the last day of harvest and the shipment goes out tomorrow."  
  
  
  
To Be Continued 


	4. Chapter 4

ADDICTION  
  
Chapter Four  
  
  
  
A'Tal sat in the darkness while the others slept. The week of heat was to begin the next day. The old man stood slowly and stretched his tired body. He silently cursed the longevity of the Xyrillian species. So many prisoners had come and gone over the years and each time one would die, a small piece of A'Tal would die, too. Just the day before he'd watched Alta charge a guard and then fall dead from the shot to her chest. She wasn't the first to choose to be killed and A'Tal knew she wouldn't be the last. He knew he would choose a fast death to a slow, excruciating one if given the choice.  
  
A'Tal sat back down and reached a hand out in the dark. He felt the shoulder of the young man next to him and he gave it an affectionate squeeze. He had always tried to remain at a safe distance emotionally from his cellmates so that their inevitable deaths wouldn't hurt quite as bad but Trip was different. The old man was astounded at how attached he'd become to this human in just three weeks time. He smiled in the darkness then shook his head. There wasn't even a moment he could pinpoint when Trip had knocked down the walls A'Tal had carefully put up around his heart. Somehow the starship engineer had just done it. The Xyrillian leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He said a silent prayer to his guiding spirit that his new friend would survive the next week.  
  
  
  
Trip peered through the fog. He could hear voices but he couldn't see any shapes. Slowly he made his way toward the sounds.  
  
"You've always been impulsive."  
  
Trip turned around. "Cap'n?" he called. The fog continued to roll around him, gray clouds encircling him.  
  
"They won't let me climb mountains."  
  
"You're damn right it's your fault!"  
  
"I want to stay here."  
  
"Dismissed."  
  
The voices echoed back and forth around him.  
  
"Dismissed."  
  
Trip covered his ears and started to run. He had no idea where he was going he only knew he had to get away from the voices. His heart was pounding hard and his lungs were fighting to take in enough air.  
  
Then he stopped. There in front of him stood his Vissian friend, Charles. She was very still, the fog moving around her like phantoms. She was looking at him.  
  
"Charles?" he whispered softly.  
  
The co-genitor looked back at him with rounded eyes but she remained silent. Then slowly she raised a phase pistol and held the barrel against her temple.  
  
"Goodbye, Trip," she murmured.  
  
Charles squeezed the trigger.  
  
Trip awoke with a start, breathing hard. He looked around frantically for Charles but she was nowhere to be seen. A hand gripped his arm and he tried to pull away.  
  
"Trip?"  
  
The engineer turned to see A'Tal looking at him with concern.  
  
"A'Tal? Where is Charles? I have to stop her!"  
  
"She's dead, Trip. Remember?"  
  
"No, no! She's not dead! I saw her, A'Tal! I can save her!"  
  
"Trip look at me," said the Xyrillian. He grabbed both of Trip's arms and turned him so they were face to face. "Look at me."  
  
Trip looked at the old man in a panic then slowly the world came back into focus. In a brief moment of clarity, he knew exactly where he was.  
  
"Are you alright?" asked A'Tal, his voice gentle.  
  
Trip nodded. "I think so. For the moment anyway," he replied with a weak smile. His gaze went around the cell. Everyone was looking at him but no one moved. Pale light poured through the windows as dawn arrived.  
  
  
  
"Captain!" cried Hoshi. "We're being hailed!"  
  
Archer stood up from his chair. "Commander Omara?" he asked anxiously.  
  
Hoshi shook her head. "No sir. It's a small transport vessel."  
  
Archer looked at Malcolm. He immediately ran a scan of the tiny ship.  
  
"Only particle weapons, sir," he reported. "No heavy artillery."  
  
Archer turned back to his communications officer. "Put it through."  
  
Malcolm looked at the screen as the face of a Silotan male appeared. He guessed the man to be around the captain's age. Beside him stood a little girl.  
  
"Are you Captain Archer?" asked the man.  
  
"Yes. What can I do for you?"  
  
The girl smiled and held up her hand. Malcolm gasped. She was clutching a Starfleet shoulder patch.  
  
"It is them, Father!" the girl cried happily. She turned to the captain. "We know where Trip is!"  
  
  
  
Jon could hardly believe it was the same place. They had been so close to Trip before but Jon had been so focused on the prison, he hadn't even thought to look elsewhere on the little planet. He silently cursed himself and prayed that his friend was okay.  
  
As the transport touched down, Jon gazed out the window at the bright sunshine. He could see guards milling around the landing pad and in the distance stood a small building. Malcolm moved up beside him.  
  
"I see eight guards, sir," he said quietly. "Finn says during the break in the weather, they generally only have two on duty in the prison itself."  
  
"Did he say why so few?"  
  
Malcolm shook his head. "No, sir. He doesn't seem to know a lot about the place just what he's seen when this Breenan allows him to see his wife."  
  
"She's never told him anything?"  
  
"Apparently he only sees her working out in a field and then only for a brief minute. He's never been allowed to talk to her."  
  
Jon looked up as Finn entered the hold. "We ready?"  
  
The Silotan nodded. "The minute I open the door, the guards will take you, Captain," he said then he looked down briefly before lifting his eyes to Jon's. "Are you sure this'll work? I mean there are a lot of things that could go wrong."  
  
"It has to, Finn. I want my friend back."  
  
  
  
A'Tal looked around his cell. Everyone was quiet, huddled against the walls. Next to him laid Trip. The young man stared vacantly at the ceiling, the only noticeable movement the blinking of his eyes. The Xyrillian knew the Silotans would begin experiencing withdrawals in a matter of hours when their bodies would begin to crave the drug they were no longer receiving. He'd been through it so many times, the vomiting, the screaming, and the raging fevers. A'Tal shook his head sadly. He looked down at his human friend wondering what Trip would go through and when it would begin.  
  
The cell door clicked as it was being unlocked. A'Tal stood and watched as the door swung open then he smiled as a human male entered. The man looked at each huddled figured then his eyes settled on the starship engineer.  
  
"Trip!" he said and moved to the young man's side. He was followed by a group of men all brandishing rifles.  
  
A'Tal knelt beside the stranger. "I knew you'd come for him."  
  
The man looked up. "I'm Captain Archer," he said then his eyes dropped to Trip again. "What did they do to him?"  
  
"Does your ship have a medical facility, Captain?"  
  
Archer nodded.  
  
"I will explain everything later. Right now all my friends need your help. Will you help them?"  
  
"Sir. These are criminals," said a younger man who had knelt beside Archer.  
  
The captain looked at A'Tal closely. "We'll help your friends," he replied. "Malcolm, have your men get these people to the transport."  
  
Archer reached down and pulled Trip to his feet. A'Tal grabbed his friend's other arm and between them, they all but dragged the engineer from the cell.  
  
  
  
Malcolm looked around the hold at the Silotan prisoners. They were all so quiet, almost meek, he thought. Finn sat in one corner holding his wife in his arms, stroking her white hair. Travis had agreed to pilot the transport back so that the Silotan could be with Kaea. Malcolm was thankful that their little daughter was still on Enterprise so that she wouldn't have to see her mother in her current condition.  
  
The lieutenant's gaze moved then settled on the commander. Archer was sitting next to him, talking to him quietly but Trip seemed unaware. He looked around him but dazedly.  
  
"How is he?" Malcolm asked as he dropped next to the captain.  
  
"A'Tal, the Xyrillian," Archer replied, nodding his head toward the old man watching over the Silotans. "Says that he's been drugged."  
  
"Drugged?"  
  
Archer nodded. "Something called Triasaphen. A'Tal says its highly addictive. It was used to keep the prisoners in line."  
  
A moan from the youngest Silotan drew Malcolm's attention. The boy was curled up, groaning in pain. A'Tal knelt beside the young man and rubbed his back.  
  
"They're all going to go through withdrawals," Archer continued. "Trip included."  
  
Malcolm looked back down at his friend. "How bad?" he asked.  
  
"Apparently it's pretty painful for the Silotans but A'Tal has no idea what'll happen with Trip."  
  
"Cap'n?" mumbled the engineer. "Is that you, Cap'n?"  
  
Archer put his hand on Trip's shoulder. "Yeah, it's me."  
  
"You came for me?"  
  
"Did you think I wouldn't?"  
  
"How'd you find me?"  
  
"Finn and his daughter, Kamella helped us."  
  
Trip nodded then closed his eyes. "I'm not feeling too good, Cap'n."  
  
"We'll have you back to Enterprise in no time, Commander," said Malcolm.  
  
Trip just nodded again.  
  
Archer looked up at the lieutenant his concern plain on his face.  
  
  
  
The little transport came under fire as it cleared the upper atmosphere of the planet. Jon stood up from Trip and looked out a tiny portal. He could see a Silotan cargo hauler firing at them. The captain was thankful that Travis was at the controls as the transport veered and spun out of the line of fire. Enterprise swept in and made a direct hit to the hauler's engines and Jon let out a breath of relief.  
  
Jon's communicator beeped for attention. He reached in his pocket, pulled it out then flipped it open.  
  
"T'Pol to Captain Archer."  
  
"Archer, go ahead."  
  
"Ensign Sato intercepted a communiqué being sent from the penal colony, sir," replied his first officer.  
  
"Great. That means Omara will be sending his troops. We should be in the launch bay in a matter of minutes, T'Pol. Be ready to take us out of here at high warp the second the bay doors close."  
  
"Yes, Captain. Was the mission successful?"  
  
"Yes. We found him. Have Phlox prepare sickbay for some guests. We'll see you in a few minutes. Archer out." Jon closed his communicator and shoved it back into his pocket. He knelt down next to Trip again. "How're you feeling?" he asked.  
  
The engineer shifted slightly. "I'm alright, sir. How're the others doing?"  
  
Jon looked around at the huddled figures of the Silotans, all now grimacing in pain. "Not too good. Hopefully Dr. Phlox will be able to help them."  
  
"Hope so. They're good people, Cap'n."  
  
  
  
Trip felt like a caged animal. He paced back and forth in the confined space of his quarters, very much aware of the watchful eyes of his captain on him.  
  
"I need to get out of here, Cap'n!" the engineer shouted. He slammed a fist onto his desk then swung around to face Archer who sat quietly on Trip's bunk. He held a phase pistol loosely in one hand.  
  
"You know what the doctor said, Trip. Right now you're a danger to yourself and to the crew."  
  
"I won't hurt anyone!"  
  
"Trip."  
  
"You just don't get it! I'm suffocating in here! I can't breath!"  
  
Archer stood up. "Why don't you try to rest? You've been up pacing for nearly five hours."  
  
Trip turned and leaned forward on the back of his desk chair, his knuckles turning white from his tight grip. "I can't rest," he muttered. "I feel like I'm going crazy!"  
  
"Phlox said it'll only be a few more hours. Just hang in there."  
  
"Why are you here? I'm sure you've got more important things to tend to then your psychotic chief engineer."  
  
"You know the answer to that, Trip," replied Archer. He came over to stand at Trip's elbow. "I'm not letting you go through this alone."  
  
Trip's body started trembling. "Not again," he said angrily. He dropped his head between his shoulders and closed his eyes, willing his body to be still but the tremors continued.  
  
"Hang on," coaxed Archer.  
  
Finally the shaking slowed then stopped completely.  
  
"I don't think I can take a few more hours of this, Cap'n," Trip said. He shoved Archer aside and headed to the door control panel.  
  
"You know we've got it locked down, Trip."  
  
The engineer growled then slammed his fists against the door. When he felt Archer's hand on his back, he swung around and pushed the older man away with violent force. The captain stumbled and fell, hitting his head on the corner of the desk. He lay in a lifeless heap on the floor.  
  
"Serves you right," Trip spat. "Always interfering in my personal life. Thinking you're some kind of friend of mine!" He laughed out loud. "If you were a real friend, you'd let me out of here!"  
  
Trip began pacing again, his eyes never leaving the inert form of his commanding officer.  
  
  
  
To Be Continued 


	5. Chapter 5

ADDICTION  
  
Chapter Five  
  
  
  
When T'Pol arrived at the commander's quarters, the door stood wide open. She peered inside and immediately saw the captain lying on the floor unconscious. She saw no one else. Dr. Phlox brushed by her and dropped at Archer's side.  
  
T'Pol knelt beside the Denobulan. "Is he alive?" she asked.  
  
"Yes," Phlox replied. He looked up at T'Pol. "I'll see to the captain, Sub-commander. You need to find Commander Tucker."  
  
T'Pol nodded. She stood up then caught sight of the control panel by the door. Tucker had pulled the faceplate off and had managed to override the lock out. She moved quickly to the engineer's computer terminal. The commander had called sickbay only moments before so she knew he couldn't have gotten too far away. She keyed in the search criteria then stood straight. His bio-signs appeared in launch bay one.  
  
The sub-commander fingered the comm. button. "T'Pol to Ensign Sato."  
  
"Yes Sub-commander?"  
  
"Lock out launch bay one immediately, Ensign," T'Pol directed. "As well as launch bay two."  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
"Have Lieutenant Reed meet me outside bay one. T'Pol out."  
  
As the Vulcan moved quickly through the corridors of Enterprise, she focused her thoughts on finding her center. There was no time to dwell on her concern for Tucker's well being.  
  
When she rounded the corner to the launch bays, she saw the lieutenant arriving from the other direction.  
  
"Commander Tucker is inside," T'Pol said briefly then keyed the door open. She stepped into the large cavernous room and looked around. "Commander?" she called.  
  
There was no reply. Reed called out for Tucker as he headed to the right. T'Pol veered to the left and the two met at the rear of the bay.  
  
"He must be in one of the shuttle pods," said Reed.  
  
T'Pol nodded. "I'll check Pod One," she said. She watched as Reed headed to the second pod.  
  
As the Vulcan lifted the hatch, her dark eyes settled on the figure of Commander Tucker. He was seated on the floor of the pod, a phase pistol held tightly in his hand. He was staring down the barrel.  
  
"Commander?" T'Pol said quietly. She stepped into the pod then knelt in front of the engineer. He was shaking and perspiration rolled down his face to soak the neck of his T-shirt. She reached a tentative hand toward the phase pistol.  
  
"No!" Tucker cried and T'Pol instantly pulled her hand back. He lifted his eyes to look at her but said nothing more.  
  
T'Pol heard Reed behind her and she stuck out her hand to stay him. "Get Dr. Phlox," she whispered over her shoulder. Then she turned her full attention to the young engineer. "Give me the pistol, Commander."  
  
Tucker shook his head then looked back down at the weapon. He grimaced in pain and inhaled sharply. T'Pol held her breath as she watched his index finger twitch on the trigger.  
  
"Commander, please," she whispered softly. "Let me help you."  
  
"I killed him, T'Pol," Tucker said weakly. "I killed the cap'n."  
  
"No you didn't Commander. He's with Dr. Phlox."  
  
Tucker shook his head again. "No, I did kill him. I saw him fall," he insisted. He looked up at her again, his eyes filled with tears. "I killed the cap'n, my closest friend. He came back for me and I killed him." He placed the barrel of the pistol flush against his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. The tears spilled down his cheeks.  
  
T'Pol inhaled a short breath. "Please, Mr. Tucker," she said, unable to control the desperation in her voice. Then in a split second, she lunged for his wrist. Just as his finger compressed the trigger, she pulled his arm back. The shot hit the wall of the shuttle above the commander's head, singeing the plating.  
  
"No!" Tucker cried out.  
  
T'Pol removed the pistol from his grip and threw it out the hatch. She could see and feel his body shaking violently. Uncertain how to proceed, T'Pol settled herself by the commander's side, her hand still holding his wrist.  
  
"You shouldn't have stopped me," Tucker murmured. "I'm not worth it." He dropped his head on her shoulder and quietly wept.  
  
  
  
Jon leaned back in the chair and watched Trip sleep. The worst was over, he thought tiredly. The engineer had finally stopped vomiting and the painful stomach cramps and tremors had subsided. The Silotans, all locked in the decon chamber for safety reasons, were now all recovering in sickbay. Dr. Phlox and A'Tal had worked hard to find something to ease their pain but they hadn't been successful.  
  
Jon shook his head. He had never seen Trip in such distress before. He wondered how the engineer had survived. Tough as nails, he thought affectionately.  
  
Trip awoke with a start. "Cap'n!"  
  
"I'm right here, Trip."  
  
The engineer turned to his voice.  
  
"You're all right?" asked Trip.  
  
Jon nodded then stood and moved to sit on the side of the bunk. "No thanks to you," he joked.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Wasn't your fault, Trip. It was that damned drug."  
  
Trip closed his eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you."  
  
"I know," replied Jon. He pulled the blankets up and tucked them under Trip's chin. "How're you feeling? T'Pol said you had a pretty rough time in the pod."  
  
Trip grimaced. "Damn," he cursed. "I think I threw up on her."  
  
Jon chuckled. "That you did."  
  
"Great. Just great," Trip groaned then he opened his eyes and looked at Jon. "You, too?"  
  
The captain nodded. "Right down the front of my shirt."  
  
Trip just groaned again.  
  
Jon patted his shoulder. "You're forgiven, Trip."  
  
"Maybe by you but I doubt T'Pol will ever forgive me."  
  
"Oh, I don't know about that. She insisted on staying with you until you fell asleep."  
  
"Probably just wanted to be sure I lived so that she could release her Vulcan anger and kill me with her bare hands," Trip said. "Oh, I can't believe I threw up on her."  
  
Jon chuckled again. "Feel like eating anything?"  
  
Trip shook his head adamantly. "Not yet," he replied. "I could use a shower, though. I smell pretty ripe."  
  
"That my friend is an understatement." Jon shifted so that Trip could sit up. The engineer swayed slightly. "You okay?"  
  
"I'm just so damned weak."  
  
"Okay. Lets try to get some soup into you then maybe you'll feel stronger. I can put up with the smell a while longer."  
  
Trip gave him a dirty look.  
  
  
  
"And this is engineering."  
  
Kamella looked up at Hoshi with a huge smile. "This is where Trip works?" she asked.  
  
Hoshi nodded. "Yep."  
  
The girl looked around, a look of wonder on her face. "This is lots bigger than Father's engine room."  
  
"I imagine it is," replied Hoshi. "Now. Lets say you and I go to the mess hall and have us some ice cream."  
  
Kamella nodded her head happily. "Trip told me all about ice cream when he was on our ship. He said Rocky Road was his favorite. Can I have Rocky Road?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
The two left engineering and made their way to the mess hall. When they arrived, they got their bowls of dessert then sat at a table with Travis Mayweather.  
  
The young boomer smiled at both ladies as they sat down. "Did you get the grand tour, Kamella?" he asked.  
  
The girl nodded. "Hoshi showed me everything. No wonder Trip loves this ship so much. She's beautiful!"  
  
"That she is," grinned Travis. "How are your parents doing?"  
  
Kamella swallowed a bite of her ice cream then licked her lips. "Mother is fine now. Father said she was really, really sick for a while. I finally saw her this morning. She looks tired but still as pretty as she was six months ago!"  
  
Hoshi exchanged a smile with Travis then took a bite of her own ice cream.  
  
"How is Trip?" asked Kamella around another mouthful of Rocky Road. "Father said he was really, really sick, too."  
  
Travis nodded. "He was but he's getting better. I'm sure you'll get to see him before you leave in the morning."  
  
"I hope so," sighed Kamella. "He's so nice."  
  
Hoshi smiled at the girl. "Where are you going when you leave?"  
  
"A'Tal is letting us live on his world. Xyrillia. He says we're all welcome there. I wish we could go back home but Mother would be arrested again. I guess Father would be, too. Maybe someday when that Commander Omara isn't in charge anymore."  
  
"I'm sure you'll get to go back one day, Kamella," said Travis.  
  
  
  
"Are you sure you should be doing this, Commander?" asked Malcolm as he walked beside Trip toward the launch bay. The engineer swayed so Malcolm took his elbow to steady him.  
  
"I'm fine, Malcolm," insisted Trip. "I just want to say good-bye to everyone."  
  
Malcolm remained silent but kept his hand on Trip's elbow until they arrived at the launch bay. He saw all the Silotans as well as A'Tal gathered near Finn's transport. They all looked at Trip with big smiles as he approached. Captain Archer, Malcolm noted, was not too pleased to see his friend out of bed.  
  
"Trip!" cried Kamella. She ran across the bay and hugged the commander affectionately. "I was afraid I wouldn't get to see you before we left."  
  
Trip hugged the girl back then knelt before her. "I couldn't miss saying goodbye to the young lady who saved my life, could I?"  
  
Kamella blushed furiously then brushed at her short-cropped hair. Malcolm put his hand up to cover his grin. He reached down to help Trip stand again then guided him with Kamella's help to the others.  
  
"Commander," greeted the Silotan boy.  
  
"Hey Jett," smiled Trip. He reached out his hand and the boy took it with enthusiasm. "I understand you're off to Xyrillia?"  
  
Jett nodded. "Yep. Kaea still has some contacts in the Silotan underground. She's certain she'll be able to get my family off planet in just a short while. From what A'Tal says I'm sure my mom will love his world."  
  
"Good to hear!" replied the engineer. "You take good care of your family, you understand?"  
  
"Yes, Commander."  
  
Trip patted the boy's arm affectionately then Malcolm watched as Kamella's mother embraced his friend.  
  
"Goodbye, Trip," Kaea smiled. "Thank you for all that you did."  
  
The commander looked puzzled. "I didn't do anything."  
  
"Ah but you did. You made me laugh and you brought me hope again."  
  
Malcolm thought he actually saw Trip's face redden.  
  
"Goodbye, Trip," said Finn as he took the engineer's hand. "Thank you."  
  
The final two Silotans, Nate and Berryl, stepped up and shook Trip's hand as well. They apologized for being rude to him but Trip just waved them off with a friendly smile. Malcolm shook his head in wonderment. The engineer was only gone just over three weeks but he'd managed to affect these people's lives significantly. Even though, Malcolm thought, a good portion of that time was spent in a drug-induced haze.  
  
"My friend," said A'Tal as Trip moved in front of him. The old Xyrillian engulfed the commander in his arms.  
  
"Goodbye, A'Tal," said the engineer as he hugged the older man back. "Thank you for being there for me. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have made it."  
  
"You would have, Trip," replied the Xyrillian. He pulled out of the hug but kept his hands on Trip's arms.  
  
"What are you going to do now?"  
  
A'Tal shrugged. "Take these people to their new home then look up some of my old friends. I'd like to start my practice back up, too. Your Dr. Phlox gave me some updated medical journals. I plan on studying them on the trip home."  
  
"Well good luck. I'd like to visit Xyrillia someday so maybe I'll look you up."  
  
"You do that," A'Tal replied. He pulled Trip into a hug again then patted the engineer's back affectionately.  
  
As Trip stepped away from the group, the captain came up beside him and placed a hand on the commander's shoulder. They watched as everyone loaded into the transport.  
  
"Trip!" cried Kamella. She leaped out of the transport and bounded up to Trip. "I forgot to give this back to you."  
  
Malcolm saw the Starfleet patch she held tightly in her fist and smiled.  
  
Trip knelt and wrapped his hand around Kamella's. "You keep it. Something to remember me by," he said.  
  
Kamella blushed again then leaned forward and kissed Trip on the cheek. She then took off at a run and disappeared inside the transport.  
  
Malcolm and the captain walked their friend out of the launch bay. Trip turned to look once more at the transport before the door slid shut. He let out a long sigh.  
  
"You okay?" asked Archer.  
  
Trip nodded. "Yeah. I just hope they're going to be safe from Omara."  
  
"They will be, Commander," replied Malcolm. "Xyrillia is far away from Silotan space. And I'm sure Omara will be busy for quite a while cleaning up the mess we made at Tria Colony."  
  
"Mess?"  
  
Malcolm smiled. "We left a few carefully placed detonators around the complex when we left. There should be nothing but rubble."  
  
Trip sighed again. "Once he rebuilds, though, he'll start arresting innocents and start harvesting all over again."  
  
"Maybe Kaea will be able to continue her work through the underground. Maybe there will be changes, Trip," said Archer.  
  
Trip swayed slightly and both Malcolm and the captain grabbed him. Together they walked the commander back to his quarters.  
  
  
  
T'Pol glanced across the table as Commander Tucker sat down for dinner. She thought he still looked exhausted and pale but it was, she conceded, pleasant to have him back at the captain's table.  
  
The steward entered and placed a bowl of broth in front of the engineer. He groaned. Somewhat dramatically, T'Pol thought.  
  
"Not soup again."  
  
Archer laughed. "Sorry, Trip. Doctor's orders."  
  
"I'm sure my stomach can handle a nice big steak, Cap'n."  
  
"In a few days maybe, but right now Phlox wants you eating only broth."  
  
The commander conceded his loss then picked up his spoon to take a bite of soup. He blew on it first then slurped it into his mouth.  
  
T'Pol looked up to find him eyeing her with a grin. After nearly two years she had finally come to realize that the engineer did things solely with the intent of breaking her control. She merely arched an eyebrow at him then sipped her own soup.  
  
When they were finished, T'Pol dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. "I trust that the contents of your stomach will remain in place, Commander," she said evenly. She was slightly amused to see Tucker's face redden.  
  
"Uh, yeah, about that, T'Pol," he stammered uneasily. "Sorry for throwing up all over you."  
  
"It was a bit----disconcerting and the odor was-----."  
  
Tucker put up his hand to stop her. "You go into a lengthy description and I won't be responsible for my actions, Sub-commander."  
  
T'Pol nodded her head at him in understanding. "I would appreciate it if you did not allow it to happen again."  
  
"You got it."  
  
Archer leaned back in his chair and looked at his engineer. "Good to have you back, Trip," he said with a smile.  
  
"Thanks, Cap'n," replied Tucker. He looked across the table at T'Pol. "I was glad that you weren't taken as my accomplice."  
  
"I was transported back to the ship immediately after your arrest."  
  
Tucker nodded. "Omara told me." He shifted uneasily in his chair. "I'm sorry I caused so much trouble again, Cap'n."  
  
Archer looked at the commander with a puzzled expression.  
  
"Interfering again and all," Tucker shrugged. He looked down at his empty bowl.  
  
"Trip," said the captain. "I should have insisted on doing more research before I let you and T'Pol go down to Silota. I'm the one who should be apologizing to you. Besides, I would have done the same thing."  
  
The commander remained silent for a long moment picking idly at the tablecloth. T'Pol watched him, wondering what thoughts were going through his mind.  
  
Finally he looked up then pushed away from the table. "I'm kind of tired so I think I'll turn in early." He stood up.  
  
"You need some help?" asked Archer.  
  
Tucker shook his head. "Nah. I'm fine."  
  
T'Pol watched the commander as he moved to the door.  
  
"Trip?"  
  
Tucker turned to look at the captain. The two men shared a silent exchange that melted into warm, knowing smiles.  
  
"Good night," said Archer.  
  
"Night, Cap'n."  
  
As T'Pol watched the exchange, she felt a brief pang of what she could only determine to be envy. These two men shared a friendship the likes of which she had never before witnessed or experienced.  
  
"Night, T'Pol."  
  
The Vulcan looked at the engineer. "Good night, Commander. May you have--- pleasant dreams."  
  
Tucker tilted his head at her in surprise then he smiled warmly. "You, too." Then he slipped out the door.  
  
Archer watched the door long after it had closed. "Good to have him back," he said finally.  
  
T'Pol nodded and lifted a brow. "Yes, Captain. It is."  
  
  
  
THE END 


End file.
